Fernando Sunburn
by TheMollyBee
Summary: Sherlock and John meet on Take Me Out, the ITV1 dating show. Obviously, I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

"Now, I've got another lad coming up for you in a jiffy, but first, let's welcome Jennifer's replacement! Say hello to Sherlock, a detective from London!"

"Consulting detective." Sherlock muttered as the cameras panned over to him and he plastered a fake grin on his face.

This case was interesting, he couldn't deny it, but national television wasn't the best place for a detective to be. Gets rid of all the secrecy. Bit not good, that.

He'd had a client come to him asking his help in exposing his cheating girlfriend. The girlfriend was indeed cheating, as she was standing next to him. On a dating show.

He'd only stuck with the case to investigate her stupidity at first, but then Mycroft appeared and said that Sherlock had to go for dinner as it was mummy's birthday and it was just so unfortunate that the case had a lot more to it than just a cheating girlfriend. Obviously.

There had to be more to it. She couldn't be that stupid as to think she wouldn't be discovered by going on a dating show. A popular dating show at that. A recently controversial one too, as Sherlock had been allowed on, as had Ian, the man three girls up from him.

The rules to the show seemed quite simple. Everyone was given a light. A typically aesthetically pleasing man came onto the stage in a lift, but if you didn't like the look of them, you turned your light off. Then you found out a little bit about them, and if they didn't appeal to you, you could then turn your light off. Then they showed off a talent of sorts, and you turned your light off if you were not impressed. Eventually, it would be wittled down to the last remaining few contestants, and one lucky one would get to go on a date to the supposedly magical island. All seemed pretty tedious, but Sherlock would give it a shot.

The music started and the lift began to descend. Not a song Sherlock was familiar with, meaning it was a new part of pop culture he'd not yet been infected with. He repressed a shudder at the desperation on the girl's face next to him as she sang along to the song and did what Sherlock assumed was a dance, but he couldn't be sure.

Feet appeared at the top of the lift. Some of the girls looked a bit put out, and Sherlock looked to see why. A cane. Psychosomatic limp, it was obvious by the angle, so he wasn't sure why the girls were looking like an old man was about to descend to the stage.

Trousered legs. There was a heatwave outside, so the man must be used to hotter temperatures than that of London, which was a "scorching" 16 degrees. Adding that to the limp, soldier.

Hands. Slightly calloused, but in overall good nick. The hand that wasn't on the cane hung awkwardly, seeming to want something else to hold on to, wanting to keep busy. Small hands, too small for a rifle. Army doctor then.

"Good evening, I'm John, and I'm from London!"

Around ten of the thirty guys and girls turned their lights off.

Sherlock looked up. He'd been trying to justify that the man definitely was an army doctor and so had missed him appear from the lift and walk around doing the pretentious walk that it was insisted everyone emerging from that lift did.

"Not bad, not bad." The host, Paddy something, gave this 'John from London' a reassuring pat on the back. "Sherlock, why is your light still on?"

Sherlock looked at Paddy then, perhaps seeming slightly gormless for a split second if you'd slowed the footage down, but nothing compared to the idiotic looks on his fellow contestants' faces.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

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><p><strong>Ahhh. This idea has probably been done to death, but I've not seen one quite like this before. I saw one that was Sherlock and some woman. And <em>John Watson, Bachelor<em> is kinda close, and I do love that.**

**But yeah, Take Me Out, Johnlock style. **

**I had to.  
><strong>

**No likey, no lighty.**

**Also known as feed me your reviews and I'll love you forever, and like, add more to this. I have way more. Sadly.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Afganistan or Iraq?" Sherlock inquired, meeting the eyes of 'John from London'.

"Af… How did you know?" John asked, visibly startled.

"Tan lines, psychosomatic limp, it was obvious." Sherlock shrugged over his deductions.

"Moving on!" Paddy, the host, yelled in his obnoxiously loud voice. "Now John, you've still got 20 potential dates lined up, but let's see how that changes after we've found out a bit more about you!"

The camera panned over to the screen, and the contestants turned to watch it as a recorded montage of clips of John's life began to appear.

"Uhh… My name is John. I live in London." The screen showed John in the doorway of a darkened room. "I'd show you round, but it's hideously untidy, and I'm normally quite neat I swear… anyway!"

The camera then showed John working through some papers as he unveiled that he was a doctor, and recently invalided home from Afghanistan. Sherlock smirked, which the camera caught, and so he winked.

So far none of the twenty remaining contestants had turned their lights off; and why should they: a soldier, and a doctor. They deemed him perfect.

Then a new face appeared on the screen.

"John's a great brother." Said a woman looking a slight bit like John, if you looked close enough, but it was obvious that they were brother and sister. "Always looked out for me. Although I should really look out for him as I'm the older one, but he's an army boy, he can look after himself." The camera zoomed out to show John sitting next to the woman, as she playfully punched him on the shoulder. He looked truly uncomfortable. "He's always said he's straight as like a poker or something, but he was in the army like and y'know what goes on there, so I reckon he's more like a bendy ruler." She laughed, John paled a bit, hissing "Harry, stop!" at her, but to no avail.

Sherlock doubted he'd ever fully understand the notion of embarrassment, but the show was obviously trying to use a clip like this for the ratings and the controversy, but for John it was just public humiliation.

"But yeah, he's lovely, and he needs someone lovely to go with him." Sherlock surmised that at least it finished on somewhat of a high note, but John's head was hanging down, with Paddy's arm around his shoulders, making the height difference between them seem like even more.

John recovered quickly though, as far as was visible to the majority of the contestants, obviously.

"So Sherlock, you've still got your light on. Wanna say something a little less stalkerish this time, mate?" Paddy joked.

"Nope." Sherlock joked back at him. At least he thought that it was a joke, he wasn't entirely sure of the mechanics, but it seemed to go down okay. "I kept my light on because we've both got interfering siblings. And because John's a doctor, so he must be at least adequately intelligent."

"You never know with the NHS these days." John piped up, making some of the contestants laugh genuinely but the majority chuckled awkwardly, not having any idea what the NHS was. John mentally ruled those ones off the potential dates list. Sherlock managed a small chuckle.

Paddy spoke to three other contestants, each squealing some rubbish about soldiers.

Sherlock and John both sighed, the camera zooming in on each of them individually.

"Right John, now it's time to see your talent, off you go!" John waved and disappeared back up the lift. "Now remember guys and girls: no likey, no lighty!"

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><p><strong>Ooh. I can see you shiver with antici...<strong>

**PATION.**

**Yeah. I had a little giggle over thinking what John's talent could be, and I've narrowed it down to three. Or four. Hmm.**

**I'm gonna do a minimum of three more chapters for this, but how did you like this one? Let me know.**


	3. Chapter 3

John was panicking. He didn't have any talents! He used to play rugby, but he couldn't really demonstrate that, and he hadn't played in a while anyway. He was a good soldier, but again, that was pretty impossible to demonstrate.

Living alone, he'd just spent quite a lot of time on his computer. He'd signed up to an internet dating site, as well as taking some online courses, reading articles to refresh his medical mind, and then one thing he did purely for his own pleasure-no, not like that.

The science of deduction. He'd been trying to learn it, but this Sherlock Holmes was a literal genius, so it was incredibly difficult. However, John had a lot of free time.

Shit. His time was up. He was ushered back onto the stage, where he took a deep breath, and began.

He sized up the contestants, looking for one easy to deduce. Ian looked like he could handle his life being unveiled in front of him.

"You're Welsh, but you live abroad quite a lot of the time. America, possibly Los Angeles. You make a fair bit of money, judging by your shoes, but your hat is old and battered, so a present, a well-loved present from a well-loved person. An ex then, an ex you're still in love with. Don't worry, they miss you too: if you check your phone, you have a text from them. They just heard you were going to be on here. Good luck."

John finished and breathed more heavily than he otherwise would, seeking out the reactions of the other contestants. Almost all the lights had turned off.

"Sally, why is your light off?"

"It weirds me out, him being able to know stuff like that… Everyone likes to keep little secrets, but he just knows them. It's weird."

John shrugged, kind of indifferent to her criticism.

"Ian, why is your light off?"

"It's really impressive an' all, but he's right, everything he said was right, so I'm rejecting him and going home."

The audience cheered, and John walked back over and gave Ian a hug.

"Now Sherly, why is your light still on?" Sherlock winced at the nickname, before answering simply.

"That was a good example of the science of deduction. That, and he looks a bit like Martin Freeman."

John grinned.

"So you're a Sherlock Holmes fan too?"

The audience went quiet. The contestants all turned to look at John, with an "Are you serious?" look on their faces.

Sherlock smiled, somewhat smugly, but with a hint of warmth to it.

"Sherlock Holmes. I believe you've heard of me." He offered out his hand for John to shake.

It dawned on John what he'd just done, and he buried his head in his hands.

"Okay John, now you've got to turn the rest of the lights off, and narrow it down to just two people. Whoever you pick will go on a date with you to the Isle of Fernando!"

It was the easiest choice he'd ever had to make, boiling it down to just two people. He only had to turn off three lights, but he knew who he was going to pick overall anyway.

"So you've picked Sherlock and Sarah. John, you've got one question, so make it a good one."

* * *

><p><strong>I know I'm almost nine hours late with this, and for that I'm sorry. I woke up two hours after I'd intended to post this, and then I had to rush because I had people over, and did not find any moment to escape. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy it.<strong>

**And this stage in the show, the guy asks a question, and the girls respond with some ridiculously cheesy line. Sherlock ain't gonna' have none o' that.**

**For the record, I will be posting the other two ideas when the story is over and done with, as bonus bits after the epilogue and stuff.**

**Thank you all for your comments and I'll see you in a couple days.  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

This was meant to be the deciding part, but John had already made his decision, and so he was just trying to think of the least stupid question he could ask on national TV. Sadly, no ideas were coming to him, so he decided to just run with it.

"Okay… Being in the army, you form close bonds with everyone, you make really good friends in high pressure situations like that… So how would you make me be your friend?"

Sarah had to answer first. "Well, I'd be myself, and hopefully you'd like me for that." The crowd gave a half-hearted cheer at the half-hearted attempt.

"Ooh, you got a good one there John!" Paddy said, nudging John lightly in his good shoulder.

And then it was Sherlock's turn. Sherlock paused, running through acceptable-on-TV versions of responses. He couldn't give too many off his John-deductions away. "I'd find out all your favourite things and then turn up at your house with them. And I'd watch football-no, rugby with you."

John nodded unconsciously. "Okay John, you've got to make your decision, but before you do there's one thing you should know: one of these two often stays awake for days on end."

John didn't even have to think about it. He walked right straight over to Sherlock.

"I'm not gay." John pecked him on the cheek, and then walked round to Sarah.

Then he turned off her light.

"Congratulations! Sherlock has managed to get a date on his first show! John and Sherlock are now going to be off to…"

The audience chimed in to finish "The isle of Fernando!"

Sherlock and John waved goodbye and walked off out, hand in hand.

The camera panned over, showing them going down the stairs.

"Your deductions are fantastic by the way."

"That's not what people normally say."

John chuckled "What do they normally say then?"

"Piss off."

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><p><strong>Apologies for how short it is, but the next one will be longer, much longer, I promise you.<strong>

**Yay, John picked Sherlock! Of course he would. Their lobe is 5eva.**

**It's 1am. You may get the next chapter today. Laterz.**


	5. Chapter 5

The waves cascading in the background were meant to be idyllic, Sherlock supposed, but he was in an atrocious mood. Sure, getting to see John again sounded good, but Sherlock seemed to have deleted one important fact: he was no longer in London, and it was hot.

He'd let Mrs Hudson pack for him, she'd insisted of course, and so she had packed some shorts he didn't even know he owned so she must have bought for him, along with some awful shirts that he was refusing to wear at this point, all of which led to one thing.

Sunburn.

Sherlock was red and in pain and he had to walk out of the sea and shake his hair so the camera could capture him and make it slow motion for the next show. The salt water helped, but the fourteen takes did not.

* * *

><p>John had to do something quite similar. He had to get up from sunbathing on the beach, pull off his sunglasses and wink at the camera. He mastered that fairly quickly, but then he had to think about what he had to say.<p>

* * *

><p>"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was nice."<p>

"No, Sherlock, we need something more than that. Elaborate a little, please?"

"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was very aesthetically pleasing. And nice."

"No, Sherlock, no. Go again."

"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was aesthetically pleasing, seemed like a nice guy, and we fit well together, I think."

"That'll have to do."

* * *

><p>"Yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting Sherlock. Again. More properly this time. Wow. It's Sherlock Holmes, y'know? No? Right. He's just so smart, I'm kind of worried about how I'm gonna keep up."<p>

* * *

><p>"I hope the activity isn't something that will take up too much energy, I've not slept in a while."<p>

* * *

><p>"I don't wanna have to do anything too physical. I'm in good shape, but my leg…"<p>

* * *

><p>"Water-skiing? Great."<p>

"Hello to you too. How've you been, Sherlock?"

"Fantastic, and you?" Sherlock replied, eyes focusing of the water-skiing equipment and not flicking to John at all.

"Good. Yeah, good thanks."

Silence fell.

John thought about saying something while they put their wetsuits on, but decided against it.

Sherlock thought about how it was very good to find someone who didn't need to chatter constantly.

"I can't water-ski. How am I meant to stand up with my leg?" John mused, unaware he was thinking out loud.

Sherlock said nothing, he just turned around and kissed John.

John spent the rest of the water-skiing time thinking about why Sherlock randomly kissed him like that.

When they finished, as they were just about to part ways before dinner, Sherlock leaned in again and turned instead to John's ear.

"I told you it was psychosomatic."

* * *

><p>"Yeah, I really like him. I really, really like him. I can't wait for dinner."<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm pleasantly surprised by John. I may actually be able to tolerate him."<p>

* * *

><p>"Thank you again, for helping with my leg." John said, after a gap in the conversation. The silences had been comfortable, both feeling at ease. Sherlock wasn't eating much, and was instead mostly watching John eat, but John didn't mind.<p>

"It was nothing; your therapist should have been able to fix that easily. You should get a new one." John didn't ask how he knew about his therapist: this was Sherlock Holmes, he was a genius and could notice things naturally that others had to study in depth for.

"I noticed you got quite sunburnt, you shouldn't have been wandering around without a shirt on, especially with no sun cream!" The doctor in John kicked in when Sherlock moved his head a little and the harsh red on his skin became more noticeable in the darkening light.

"Thank you doctor, but I didn't see you complaining." Sherlock retorted, winking at John before picking a little bit of his food off his plate and popping it into his mouth.

* * *

><p>"Yes, I think I definitely will see him again. He's interesting and kind of eccentric and he's just kind of… I don't know. But yes, I would like to see him again."<p>

* * *

><p>"I like John." The camera man made encouraging movements. "I don't like people, but I like John. I think I might see him again."<p>

The cameras then filmed each of them walking away from the table.

* * *

><p>"Fancy seeing you here, John." Sherlock said, lounging in a chair.<p>

John looked back at the door he'd just come through, and then at the key in his hand.

"It's my room." He stated, slightly confused.

"Incorrect. I just checked with the hotel, and by some unfortunate mishap that may or may not have been my fault, I think you'll find this is our room." Sherlock stood up as he was talking, and ended up a little closer to John than expected when he finished speaking and ended with what was kind of half smile, half leer.

John was more than fine with that turn of events.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello. I made a long one, yay.<strong>

**Where have all my reviewers for this gone? My emails are flooded with spam and no reviews to break it up. Heartbreaking.**

**But yes, here we are. Chapter five. I couldn't remember how I planned this one out, so you've either got one more or two more chapters coming your way.**

**Any innuendoes are deliberate, but sneakily so.**

**And now off I run to update _John Watson, John Watson_. Ciao.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Sherlock, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I've not heard from you in two weeks and now you're on my TV, what happened?"

"Ah Lestrade, well yes, I've been rather busy lately."

"Who's on the phone?" John asked sleepily, rolling over and rubbing his eyes. Sherlock talking had woken him up from what he supposed counted as an afternoon nap, but the way Sherlock was playing with his hair relaxed him before he could get angry at being awoken.

"Sherlock, seriously, you're on my TV. Fill me in now?"

"Get off the phone!" John mouthed, before leaning down to kiss Sherlock's chest.

"I'm going to have to call you back, Lestrade." Sherlock began, then held the phone away to moan a little as John's head dipped lower. "I'm just about to murder someone."

Pressing the red end call button, he threw his phone onto the nightstand and resumed working his fingers through John's hair.

"Go away, I'm busy." Sherlock spoke into the receiver the next time it rang.

"Nuh-uh, Freak, you're on bloody Take Me Out. What kind of investigation is this? It's bloody hilarious!" Sherlock heard crunching, like popcorn being hastily stuffed into the gob of someone normally using their mouth on… Never mind.

"Busy." Sherlock repeated, before hanging up again.

He hummed with pleasure as John swallowed, and grunted a little just as his phone began to ring again.

"Mycroft, if you dare call me again I will take your gastric band and tighten it over your femoral artery."

"Nice to know you can be so wonderfully creative under any circumstances, little brother. I just thought I should inquire as to whether you want me to remove the cameras from your bedroom?"

Mycroft hung up before Sherlock could answer, which was just as well because he'd lost the ability to form sentences at that point.

"I love you."

"And I love you. Come on, shower, and then you're taking me out for dinner."

"Doctor Watson, I thought you were taking me out?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he questioned.

"Shower. And I thought we could use your excellent deducing skills to find somewhere good to eat."

"Angelo's. About time you met Angelo. You can meet Lestrade tomorrow. And Mycroft will probably kidnap you shortly." He heaved himself out of bed and began walking out towards the bathroom, grabbing a towel as he walked. "Ooh, you're going to have such fun."

* * *

><p><strong>This is what I will now refer to as "English language revision".<strong>

**I'm gonna have John meeting everyone, and then I'm going to do a kind of reunion episode of the show, and then we're done.**

**I might do a few Mystrade one shots, but I need to take a break and actually revise for my GCSEs, because if I don't pass them I will never leave this town and hello, that is more necessary than oxygen, like seriously.**

**Rambly ramble.**

**Ciao.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Congratulations, your presence has made Angelo positively giddy." Sherlock said, linking his fingers with John as they left the restaurant.

"I think it's more the combined _our_ presence that put that grin on his face." John replied, giving Sherlock's hand a squeeze as their walking pace increased.

"Mm. I should make sure he doesn't try to steal you from me." Sherlock retorted, winking.

"As if I'd let myself be stolen." John replied, leaning in to Sherlock as they walked.

"True, you're mine. Bed?" They'd stopped outside Baker Street. John nodded in the affirmative.

"Sherlock! Can I please meet him yet? I've watched the show, I know it's him!" Mrs Hudson called as they tried to sneak up the stairs to their flat.

"I'm guessing I should just stay very still and very quiet so you can pretend I'm just a John statue?" John asked sarcastically.

"Shh. I don't want her coming up the stairs, the rain makes her hips bad. You can meet her tomorrow, or the day after, or whenever the inevitable squealing seems tolerable." Sherlock whispered in reply, continuing to hurry John up the stairs.

"Tomorrow boys!" Mrs Hudson called after them again.

* * *

><p>"I think I'm going to go and look for a job tomorrow morning, Sherlock."<p>

"Fine." Sherlock huffed "Why can't you just stay here all the time?"

"Because one of us needs to stock the fridge with something that isn't body parts, okay?"

Sherlock grumbled something unintelligible in reply, but John took it as acceptance, so reached up to kiss his forehead.

"Bed. Now."

* * *

><p>"Okay, here's the plan: you go out, get a job, and be back here within the hour, okay?"<p>

"Sherlock, give me my trousers." John sighed, slightly irritated but mostly with having to get dressed in the first place.

"No. Promise you'll be back." Sherlock pouted, his hand forming the shape of a gun next to the trousers.

"I'll be home soon, it just might take a little while." John reached to grab the hostage trousers. "I promise."

Sherlock handed over the trousers in defeat.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock pulled John back into the bed.

"Fine. One more hour."

"Two."

* * *

><p>When Sherlock awoke approximately thirty eight and a half minutes later, stretching and feeling pleasantly sore, he reached over for John, who was absent.<p>

"Bastard." He reached for the next best thing, just a little further to his left: his mobile phone.

* * *

><p>When John returned about an hour after that, he found his keys missing from his pocket, having been removed in the trouser hostage situation earlier, and a note stuck to the door.<p>

"I have a case. As revenge for you heartlessly abandoning me this morning, I'm not telling you where- SH"

John shrugged, and knocked on the door.

"Hi, Mrs Hudson, I'm John. Sherlock stole my keys, so I figure we can have that tea now?"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, John left Baker Street with a belly full of tea and scones, and an address.<p>

Because if Sherlock had taught him nothing so far, he knew that Sherlock cared and Mrs Hudson worried enough for her to always know where he was.

John approached the crime scene. It looked like, well, he supposed it look like your average crime scene. Police officers, check. Passers-by milling around, watching it like a car crash, check. Consulting detectives? Yes, this was the right place.

Through some miracle John was allowed under the tape. He assumed it was something to do with Mycroft: Sherlock described him as a magpie or something of the like, always watching.

"Well of course she is, look at the second ring on her left thumb!"

By another miracle, John supposed this one was just good luck, everyone was facing away from him.

And then he made his move.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello there. I thought it had been a month, but it seems like it hasn't actually. How thrilling.<strong>

**I'm gonna write chapter eight now, I think. Maybe. I'm not sure if I want an early night or not.**

**Whatevs. You'll get it within the week anyway.**

**I shouldn't be writing until June 18th, but meh I want to fail my GCSEs innit.**

**Mayeb it won't be withing the week.**

**Review and it probably will.**

**Threats with time, mwahahahah.**

**Sleep?**


	8. Chapter 8

**IF YOU'VE NOT READ THE LAST CHAPTER, YOU MIGHT WANT TO. HOW DARE YOU SKIP IT.**

* * *

><p>John crept up behind Sherlock, who, always alert, noticed the extra scent immediately and spun around.<p>

"Sherlock! You were just about to tell us who to arrest?" Lestrade asked pointedly, fixing the back of Sherlock's head with a glare. "I'm Greg by the way." He said to John, extending his arm to shake John's hand.

Sally looked like she was about to explode.

"Busy. Mycroft will know, and I'm sure he'd be more than happy to tell you."

"Actually Sherlock, talking about you kind of kills the mood, so would you just tell me now so we can finish this up?"

Sherlock didn't give any verbal response, just walked away, motioning for John to follow.

John stood his ground.

"Oh for god's sake. It was the brother's flatmate, unless he has his left ear pierced, in which case it was her butcher."

"Any evidence to back that up?"

"Whichever one it is will confess immediately and hand over all the gory details. Meanwhile, I have an appointment to attend to. John?"

"Coming dear." John replied, rolling his eyes. Lestrade smiled at him.

"You know, I think John Watson might be the answer to our prayers. He made Sherlock behave!"

Sally was unable to reply.

* * *

><p>"Mycroft wants us to go over for dinner tonight."<p>

"Okay, that sounds good."

"No, John!" Sherlock stood up from his seat "You're meant to refuse outright, so we have an excuse to stay in bed!"

"I thought you hated being lazy?" John called after Sherlock's retreating figure.

"It's for an experiment!" Sherlock's voice sounded from their bedroom.

"Well you can experiment; I want to hear stories about baby Sherlock dressing up as pirates."

"Who told you?" John snorted at Sherlock's outraged face poking round the door.

"I was just giving an example, but now we have to go. Please."

* * *

><p>"So John, I'm shocked you actually managed to get Sherlock to come over. I have to promise him equipment and security passes and, oh what was it last time, a dragon costume, if I want him to come to see Mummy."<p>

"A dragon? Oh, he accidentally let slip about a pirate costume, and I was intrigued enough to use mortification to my advantage."

"Oh yes, I have pictures of that particular event. He didn't take it off for an entire month."

"Sherlock, no hissing."

"Okay, so now you've befriended Mycroft in giggling over my adorable self, become best buds with Lestrade and have an invitation down the pub from him, and Donavon seems to think you possess magical powers, I think you should meet Mrs Hudson."

"Ah. Done that already."

"Of course! The scone crumbs!" Sherlock pulled out his phone and fired off a text to Lestrade.

"Cold case zero, Sherlock Holmes one?" John asked.

"Indeed. Can I meet Harriet? I do think that's the next step."

"I thought that would be meeting your mother, but okay. I'll give her a call soon."

"Nope. Taxi!"

* * *

><p>"Hello, and welcome to Take Me Out: Reunion! In this special episode, we are reunited with some of the couples that yours truly has helped set up. Now, if you don't think the couple worked out after the clips we've shown, turn your lights off. That clear? Good. Now, let's start with Sherlock and John."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Hi. Two updates in an hour. I spoil you guys.<strong>

**I want twice as many reviews, or my ego will deflate even more and it will resemble a prune and updates will be once in a blue moon and my rhymes will strangle you all.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Forte, your poem actually made my day. This chapter is for you.**

* * *

><p>"Hello, and welcome to Take Me Out: Reunion! In this special episode, we are reunited with some of the couples that yours truly has helped set up. Now, if you don't think the couple worked out after the clips we've shown, turn your lights off. That clear? Good. Now, let's start with Sherlock and John."<p>

John and Sherlock waited backstage. John was nervous. Sherlock couldn't fathom why.

The audience were shown Sherlock and John meeting on the show, with John trying to impress Sherlock with his own tricks. Then it changed and showed them on their date.

For the first time, John got to see how terrified Sherlock was on the water ski. Sherlock pretended that he was just putting it on for the cameras. They both knew he wasn't.

_"Yes, I think I definitely will see him again. He's interesting and kind of eccentric and he's just kind of… I don't know. But yes, I would like to see him again."_

Sherlock smiled widely at the on-screen John's words. He reminded John of a shark. He decided not to point that out.

_"I don't like people, but I like John. I think I might see him again."_

John looked up at Sherlock and interlaced their fingers with a grin on his face.

The screen then stopped showing them, and went back to the host.

"So, now, if you think they stayed together, you leave your light on. If you think they crashed and burned, you turn your light off. Ready? Go!"

Several lights turned off, the majority, however, remaining on.

"Not bad, not bad. Now, let's welcome John back onto the show!"

John walked down onto the stage, waving at the audience.

"Woah, John, last time we saw you, you had a pretty nasty limp. What happened? Were you just playing the sympathy card?"

"No! No. It was psychosomatic, it's gone now. God, I'd never pretend to… No." John protested. Paddy didn't seem to believe him.

"Of course John. Now, most of the people here think you and Sherlock made it big time. Can you unveil what really happened? From the beginning, please?"

"Well… Okay, so just after that date on Fernando, I walk back to my hotel room, and I unlock the door and he's there, spouting some utter rubbish about how there was a mix-up and we have to share a room, and then the lease on my flat happened to expire and so I had to move in with him temporarily, but he wouldn't let anyone meet me for like two weeks, but then I met his brother, and he met my sister, and we both decided we'd be better off with the other sibling."

"Oh my god… Really?"

"Na, I'm just playing with you. We're doing very well."

Paddy turned to the camera and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Woo, I was rooting for you guys. Let's bring Sherlock on the show now!"

And what happened next was one of those classic TV gold moments that would make the news.

* * *

><p><strong>Mwahahahahahahahahahahahaha<strong>

**Wait, this doesn't look like art exam work...**

**Well shit.**

**See you next time I'm trying to avoid passing my GCSEs.**

**Thank you all for reviewing etc.  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

"Sherlock? Is that… Is that a dragon costume?" John asked, disbelief evident in his tone and the way he kept blinking, like he'd suddenly wake up from what he couldn't decide what a bad dream or not.

"Well, you liked the idea of the pirate one. I figured why not?"

"Because you're on national television? Donavon will be so happy she'll fall over."

"But national television was the entire point, John!"

"Is this me seeing but not observing again?"

"Care to explain the costume to the audience, Sherlock?" the host butted in, confusion hiding behind his cheery smile.

"Oh dear lord. Okay, well, a few weeks ago, John and I were walking from the cab to Scotland Yard, and I turned to him and-" John gasped behind him, itching to hug Sherlock, but knowing he hated being interrupted.

"Oh he's caught on, finally. So I turned to him, and I took his cane and said 'Seriously John, how are you meant to walk up the aisle limping like that?' and then I sort of ran away."

"I thought he meant we were going on a plane for the case. And he didn't 'sort of run', picture a cheetah in a deerstalker and scarf."

"And so obviously, he didn't get it then, which is why I needed to be completely and utterly obvious in my intentions."

John's grin overtook his face.

"Yes!"

"I hadn't asked yet, but fantastic anyway!" Sherlock kissed John quickly, suddenly conscious of John's feelings towards the cameras, and plucked the ring out of his pocket.

"Sherlock, it's not legal for us to get married, you are aware of that, right?"

"Oh, right, another one of those law things…" Sherlock pulled out his phone.

Confetti fell down on them.

"Congratulations guys, you've won a honeymoon on THE ISLE OF FERNANDO!"

* * *

><p>On the other side of the city, Mycroft hung up his phone, after doing his brother a favour and passing through a certain helpful law.<p>

"I think hanging around with me has melted you, Mr Ice Man."

"Oh do shut up Gregory, I'm trying to watch the show." Mycroft winked at Lestrade to show he was joking, but still focused his attention on the screen.

* * *

><p>"How dare you propose to your boyfriend on the end credits of my show!"<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I do believe this is the end of our show.<strong>

**I'll be posting all the bonus chapters I said I would intermittently over the next two months. There are about five.**

**Thank you all for coming along for the ride. It's been fun.**

**And I'm sure I'll see you all again very soon.**

**This is Molly, signing off.  
><strong>


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